The Grief of a Psychopath
by FlynnWriter
Summary: A graduate student comes in to work with the team to solve a curious case. Trigger warning: Mention of rape. A little bit of Reid/OC no slash (First FanFic Story...let me know if you like it!)
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Cailyn Hart stepped through the glass doors of the BAU, clutching a travel cup of coffee to warm her hands against the early morning chill. For early April, the temperatures were unusually low. She glanced at her watch again, and searched the lobby for a familiar face. Suddenly, she heard a voice behind her. "Cailyn?" She turned around, a wide grin cresting across her face.

"Spencer!"

Spencer Reid smiled and awkwardly swept one arm across the expansive rooms. "Welcome to the BAU." Cailyn grinned as she saw his customary sweater, today a light plum. His chestnut hair was longer than the last time she had seen him, which had been over three months ago.

"Thanks!" She said. "And thank you for the letters, you have helped me so much in my behavioral psych class."

Reid's voice cracked a little as he replied. "No problem. Professor Dugdale can be challenging. I enjoy writing. And…and reading. And advice! I mean, giving advice." He blushed nervously, but Cailyn was too busy glancing around the offices to notice, taking in the modern glass and chrome and the light, professional atmosphere humming with an undertone of urgency. As Reid continued chattering, Cailyn hanging on every word, Morgan and Blake walked through the doors. Although Blake was distracted by her cell phone, Morgan immediately noticed Reid and the attractive young lady next to him. He elbowed Blake in the side.

"Ow! What the heck, Morgan?" She stowed the phone in her purse, and gawked at the young pair. "Who's that with Reid?"

Derek looked just as shocked. "I have no idea…" As they rounded the corner to their desks, they saw Rossi walk by. "Hey Rossi!" Morgan called out. "You know who pretty boy's pretty lady is?"

The older agent's cheeks creased, wide wrinkles embracing his knowing smirk. "Yes." He said playfully, continuing his path to Hotch's office.

Exasperated, Morgan rolled his eyes. "C'mon, Rossi! Give me something to work with here." Rossi merely grinned, knocking on Hotch's door. Morgan turned back to Blake, his tone more serious.

"Why hasn't he told us? I mean, are they dating?"

"You think I know?" Blake scoffed, struggling to fix her hair after the blustery morning. "He would've told you before he told me. Anyways, you can ask him yourself." Blake glanced at the door. "They're walking in now."

Reid and Cailyn stepped through the glass doors into the bullpen, still chatting. Hotch looked out at the pair, and caught Reid's eye. After dropping his bag onto the desk chair, he gestured for her to follow him and the two traversed the workspace to Hotch's office. He shut the door behind them, but Morgan and Blake surreptitiously watched the windows, watching the groups' every moves.

Morgan leaned back in his chair. "This is driving me crazy! Everyone knows her but me!"

Blake looked affronted. "I don't know her!" Just then, JJ walked briskly through the door, her heels snapping on the tile floor.

"Know who?"

Morgan smiled. "Alright ladies, maybe I'm not the only one." He waved JJ over conspiratorially, gesturing over his shoulder at the closed door behind him. "Our doctor Reid brought a woman to work today."

JJ gasped. "Seriously?! How did we not know about this?" She strained to get a glimpse of the meeting. "Shoot! They're coming out now. Oh, hey, round table in…well, now. Let's go." She strode away, Morgan and Blake trailing in her wake, and entered the round table room.

Garcia was already there, typing away furiously on her laptop. Morgan smiled as he sat down next to her. "Garcia, sometimes I wonder how your keys don't just go up in flames." She giggled, and looked up to see Hotch, Rossi, Reid, and Cailyn enter the office. The tech leaned over and not-so-subtly whispered in Morgan's ear. "Who's this? Why do I now know her?"

He grinned in response. "Same question we're all asking, babydoll."

After everyone had settled into their seats, Hotch began the introduction. "Everybody, this is Cailyn Hart, a graduate student in personality and social psychology at Columbia University. She has asked to accompany us for a while to interact with some of the victims' families, and Agent Rossi managed to convince Director Strauss to allow it." He quickly went through the agents, gesturing to each one as he said their names. "And, you know Agent Rossi and Dr. Reid."

"It's nice to meet you all. I'm really glad to be working with such an accomplished unit."

There was an awkward moment of silence before JJ took over, passing out files to everyone at the table. "We're headed to Greene River in upstate New York. Yesterday, Greene River police found the third victim in a string of vicious stabbings, and two hours ago they discovered a fourth." She glanced at Cailyn and shrugged before sending the gruesome pictures to the large screen in the center of the room. "The victims were all stabbed in the center of the chest, breaking through the sternum. The bodies are left in various locations, nor necessarily high or low traffic areas."

Hotch stood up, gathering the files. "Wheels up in twenty. Ms. Hart, I assumed you have a go-bag ready?"

"Of course sir. Spencer told me to be ready for anything."

"Good. See you soon." He turned on his heel and walked out of the room. Morgan walked up to Cailyn as the group slowly filtered out of the room.

"So, Cailyn. Where did you do your undergrad?" JJ rolled her eyes as she left in exasperation.

Cailyn smiled, "University of Minnesota. I grew up around there."

Morgan smiled. "Minnesota nice, then?"

She grinned even wider. "That's what we tell people."

"How did you get into your field?"

"Actually, that's how I know Spencer and Agent Rossi. They came and gave a lecture at the university during my sophomore year. I was already planning to major in psychology, but they sort of inspired me to take it to another degree. I've been talking back and forth with Spencer for a while now, he's helped me through more than one graduate class…"

They both chuckled, and walked into the hallway. "But psychology of grief? That seems pretty specific."

The corners of her mouth turned down, and immediately, the profiler in Morgan registered his mistake, but she responded too quickly for him to take it back. "My father passed away when I was ten, and our family was never the same again. I guess I was just interested to see if everybody responds the same way."

"I'm so sorry."

"It's alright. I've come to terms with it."

Suddenly, Reid's voice interrupted them. "Cailyn! We need to grab your stuff and get your car to the garage so they don't tow it!" Morgan silently thanked Reid for his perfectly timed interruption, and continued navigating the maze to his desk.

"See you on the plane, Ms. Hart."

"Please, call me Cailyn. See you soon!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

The jet was mostly quiet, two or three conversations sequestered in their groups of chairs and couches. Hotch stood, refilled his coffee, and gathered the team around the main table. "Let's get started. Our latest victim was a wealthy businessman, Peter Messer. He was found on the side of a suburban road by a driver on his morning commute. It is the same MO as all the other victims, a stab directly through the sternum." Cailyn, who was the only one of the group not leaning in to look at the pictures, looked slightly nauseous.

"Is this really what you guys work with every day?" Her face was screwed into a deep frown, her brow crunched as if struggling to understand exactly what was going on.

Hotch didn't smile. "Unfortunately, yes. You don't have to observe this part if you don't wish to, but often it helps to know exactly what you're dealing with when you interview victims."

"I'll stay, then." She found a new resilience, and steeled herself to look at the pictures in front of her, pieces in a puzzle she didn't want to put together.

Hotch continued. "There is an anomaly in the fourth victim. Messer showed signs of being beaten. There is severe bruising on his abdomen and face, but there are defensive wounds on his hands and lower arms."

"That's odd." Morgan cut in. "What was time of death? Could this man have been the unsub's trigger? A beating's personal. Sure, the unsub is stabbing them face to face, but something changed. JJ, is there any connection between the victims?"

"Hold on, I'll get Garcia up."

Garcia's face popped up on the small computer screen, and her chipper voice soon followed. "What can I do for you, Jayje?"

"Garcia, could you find any relationships between the victims?"

"Nothing! Different social groups, completely different neighborhoods, different jobs…I'll keep looking, but they're pretty much random as far as I can see."

"Thanks Garcia." Morgan pulled a picture out of the file, a shot of the first victim at the crime scene. A puddle of blood had pooled around the body, staining the man's shirt an indelible maroon. "Our unsub is obviously powerful to be able to stab with enough force and velocity to crack the sternum in one blow. We're probably looking for a dedicated athlete."

"Or someone from the military," Blake interjected. "The anger present in his attacks could come from some sort of PTSD, but he also shows complete control and cognizance of his actions. There is only one wound to each victim, not signs of hesitation."

Hotch spoke again. "We can't rule anything out right now. Once we land, Reid, you can start a geographical profile at the station. JJ, Blake, and I will come with you and talk to the officer in charge. Rossi, you, Morgan, and Ms. Hart will go to the last victim's brother's house. He is Messer's only surviving relative, but has not yet been notified of his brother's death."

Morgan grimaced. "So we have to tell him?" Hotch nodded, and looked down at the files in his lap. "The local authorities have been overloaded with the amount of evidence and the media pressure, so they need our help on this one, and I thought it would be a good opportunity for Ms. Hart to observe." Hart nodded once, acknowledging his words, but returned to gazing somewhat dejectedly out the window.

Reid sat down gingerly in the seat next to her, and caught her attention. "Cailyn, are you sure you're okay doing this?"

She looked up, surprised. "I'm trained in doing this Spencer, I'll be fine."

"There's a difference between the classroom and the field. You never know what reactions you need to be prepared for." His probing eyes searched into hers for any sign of weakness, and finding none, he relaxed. "So what classes do you have left to finish your semester?" She smiled, and launched into a description of her dissertation that she had been working on, pulling Reid in further with every word.

Lost in their conversation, the two young people did not notice Morgan's keen eyes following them. Rossi looked up from the magazine that he was thumbing through and smirked. "They've been writing letters to each other for a while now."

Morgan smiled. "A budding romance?"

"I don't think so…more of an intellectual curiosity. She's very smart."

"A genius?"

"Not at Reid's level, but she's amassing quite a lot of attention in her field. Last year, one of her studies was published in the APA yearly journal. She talked to Reid about some of the content, I'm not entirely sure what."

"Well, she's not exactly bad looking. She's smart. She's funny. Maybe I should try to build this 'curiosity' into something more…" Morgan leaned back, his eyes dancing with playfulness.

"Believe me, I've already thought of matchmaking. But if they're not together by now, I don't know what else we can do."

"Exactly how long have they known each other?"

"Hmm…a year and a half? Maybe more, I'm not certain."

"How do you know her?"

"Like she said, Reid and I lectured up at the University of Minnesota a couple of years ago. In the middle of winter too-It was freezing!"

"Hey man, I grew up in Chicago. Don't you tell me about freezing!" They laughed, and began swapping stories of their winter weather experiences.

Soon, a voice crackled over the PA to announce the preparation for landing, and the team settled into their seats again and gathered their things, ready to hit the ground running when the jet landed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

JJ pushed through the doors of the Greene River Police Department, flashing her badge at the security guards. The station was bustling, both uniformed and plainclothes officers striding purposefully through the maze of desks. She grabbed an officer walking by, and he stopped, his face irritated. "Look, lady…" He paled as she held up her badge again. "I'm sorry ma'am. Can I help you?"

"We're looking for Detective Keynes."

"Absolutely." He gestured to a commanding man across the room, who was giving instructions to a batch of uniforms. "That's him, right there."

"Thank you." She walked past him, leading Hotch and Blake through the twisting, chaotic labyrinth. "Detective Keynes?"

The burly man was older, with peppering hair and a slight paunch. "You must be the FBI agents. Welcome to Greene River."

Hotch stepped forward. "Thank you. I'm Agent Aaron Hotchner, These are Agents Jareau and Blake, and Doctor Reid. Is there a place we can set up?"

"We've set aside one of our back conference rooms for you. I thought there would be more of you…" He looked slightly confused.

"We've already sent some of our agents to inform the brother, as you asked.

"I see. I also want to inform you that we have a suspect."

Hotch looked up, a steely glare in his eyes. "Well, this changes everything detective. Just what do you need us for?"

The man recoiled. "You don't understand. We questioned him, but had to let him go after the coroner validated his alibi for the fourth murder."

Blake stepped up. "How did you identify him in the first place?"

"It's strange. We found some blood drops at the third crime scene, in the alleyway. We matched the DNA through CODIS, the perp was an ex-marine, but he claimed it was from a bloody nose from a bar fight the night before."

Hotch spoke again. "That might be more than a coincidence. An ex-marine would certainly fit our basic profile." Reid looked up from the files he was skimming and said, "His physical capabilities are there, but we should look into his mental state."

"You guys already have a profile?"

"Just preliminary. We will build on it as we find more information." He looked back to the documents in his lap.

Hotch spoke up. "I'd like to talk to your suspect. What is his name?"

"Kyle Baker. He's unemployed, so you will probably find him at home."

JJ pulled out her cell, dialing Garcia and putting it on speaker phone. Her perky voice fed through the line. "Office of eternal wisdom, how can I help you?"

"Hey Penn, we need the address for a Kyle Baker, ex-marine?"

"Give me two seconds. Scratch that, I'm done. I sent it to your phones."

Hotch stood up, grabbing his coat. "JJ, you're with me, we'll go and see Baker. Blake and Reid, stay here and work on a connection between the victims.

* * *

At the same time, Rossi, Morgan and Hart arrived at the gate of the mansion of Robert Messer, the fourth victim's brother. Morgan looked up at the wrought iron fence. "Rossi, you sure this is the place?"

Rossi smiled good-naturedly. "Hey now, don't judge a man by his mansion."

"This place is bigger than yours!" Derek responded. He leaned out the window and pressed the intercom button. A tinny voice answered.

"This is the Messer Residence. Who is calling?"

"Agent Morgan, FBI. We need to speak to a Roger Messer?"

"Right away sir. Please leave your car in the roundabout."

"Thanks?" He looked over at Rossi, who merely shrugged. The gates creaked open, and the black SUV rolled up the hill, its occupants taking in the size of the palatial house that stood before them, cloaked by rows of budding trees.

As they drove up the long driveway, Rossi turned around in his set to talk to Hart. "You're quiet."

She smiled. "I'm not a big fan of driving. Or flying, for that matter."

Rossi chuckled. "so how do you get around?"

"I run, or bike."

Morgan glanced into the rearview mirror. "Impressive. You do distance?"

"Some. I just did my first triathlon a couple weeks ago."

Rossi butted in. "Congratulations. You two can compare feats later. I just want to quickly run over what we want to do here. When we go in, we're giving people the worst news of their lives. We can't really be sure how they will react, what their emotions will be, so be careful in everything you say and do."

"I've studied some of these, Agent Rossi."

"I know that, Cailyn, but watching it happen on tape is different from personal experience." His tone was soft, and patient.

"I've been on the receiving end of more than one as well." Morgan glanced up again in time to see a micro-expression of hurt soar cross the young woman's face. "I'll be okay."

The SUV pulled into the roundabout, and they all climbed out. They walked up to the door, and it was opened for them by a debonair butler. "Please, wait here for Mr. Messer." They looked around the ornate entry, awed by its rich colors and lavish furnishings.

"This is over the top even by my standards," Rossi muttered. "And there's only one person that lives here?"

"And the butler." Cailyn added. "Although he's probably not the only servant here."

A deep voice made them turn around. "You must be the FBI agents."

"Roger Messer?" The man nodded. He was young, with a muscular build accentuated by an exceptionally attractive suit. He had brownish-blond hair, and brown eyes that resonated with an authoritative glint.

"What can I do for you?"

"My name is Agent Rossi, and this is Agent Morgan and Ms. Hart. I was wondering, could we sit down?"

"Of course, but…and please excuse me….what business do I have that he FBI is interested in?" Though polite, his tone suggested he had much more important things to do than talk with the FBI. He led the group into a sitting room off to the right of the hall, but remained standing.

"Actually, this is about your brother, Peter. Please, sit down." Messer's cheek muscles tightened, but his eyes remained boring into Rossi's.

"I prefer to stand, actually," He said snobbishly. Morgan raised his eyebrows. "What about Peter?"

Morgan stood up. "I'm sorry to have to tell you this, Mr. Messer, but Peter was killed yesterday."

Cailyn watched carefully, closely analyzing every expression that crossed Messer's face. He blinked once, then twice, before speaking. "That's awful." The corners of his mouth turned down, and he covered his eyes with his hands, not saying anything more. Morgan was tense next to his side, still waiting for a reaction, and Hart perched on the edge of the plush chair she sat on.

Rossi was the first to tentatively break the silence. "Mr. Messer?"

He looked up, and his eyes were emotional, but dry. "I'm sorry. Who did this?" He sank down heavily into the couch beside Rossi.

"That's what we're working on right now. Do you think you could answer some questions about your brother?"

"Yes, of course." His hands grasped his knees tightly, and his whole body was rigid. "Peter and I…we were alone. Our parents passed away two years ago in a car accident." Morgan chanced a glance at Cailyn, making his own observations. The determination on her face was shadowed by a moment of grief, and Morgan turned back to Roger Messer with a note of sympathy in the back of his head.

"Again, I'm sorry for your loss …we can come back later if that would be easier for you."

"No, it's okay. I just want to get the man that did this to my brother."

"I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but your brother appears to have been beaten before his death. Do you know anyone that your brother had problems with?"

"Not really. Peter was a great person. Most people liked him…except…" Morgan waited. "Sometimes, Peter would have a few too many drinks, and get into bar brawls."

"Your brother's record is clear. No mention of any of this."

Messer paused, choosing his words. "Influence…can buy innocence. Now, Peter was not a bad person." He leaned back, rubbing his eyes with his hand. "He didn't deserve this."

Rossi stood up, letting them know it was time to leave. "No one does, Mr. Messer. Thank you for your time; we will contact you if we have any further questions. Please, let us know if you need anything."

Morgan and Hart murmured goodbyes, and the trio walked out into the afternoon sunshine. As they got into the SUV, Hart immediately began to talk. "That was not a normal reaction! I mean, I've never seen anything like this. None of the markers of shock and bereavement were present in his micro expressions!"

Morgan smiled at the young girl's energy. "Well, what did you see?"

"No emotion! Even when he was talking about his brother, he shielded his face. Didn't you guys see it?"

"I saw something," Rossi said. "I'm not sure what it was."

Somewhat abashed, Cailyn leaned back into her seat gazing out the window as the group began the trek back to the station.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"Baker wasn't at the house," Hotch said. "JJ, can you get Garcia to find him?"

"On it."

"Okay, what do we know?" Hotch said, turning to face the assembled group.

Reid stood up, walking up to the evidence board. "The four murders started March 28th, and have occurred sporadically since then. It wasn't very organized, and the victims appear to be random. Other than the fact that they are all male, there is no latent connection."

Blake stood up next to Reid, looking at the map. "All of the bodies have been discovered in fairly urban areas, but not hidden. There is no sign of remorse…"

Her next thought was interrupted by Detective Keynes, who had sidled outside to take a call on his cell phone and had just returned. "Agents? Baker's ex-fiancé just came in. You said you would like to talk to her?"

Blake looked to Hotch, who nodded. "Blake, you're with me. Reid, keep working on a geographical profile. JJ, work with Garcia to find Baker. And Morgan and Rossi…"

"Figure out why Peter Messer was beaten."

"Exactly." Hotch and Blake followed the detective out of the room and to the back of the station, where a small, mousy woman sat in a room away from the chaos. She stood as the agents walked in.

"I'm Kelly Anderson, Kyle's ex-fiancé. Have you found him?"

"No ma'am," Hotch responded. "We'd like to ask you a few questions."

"Absolutely. Kyle…he's not a bad guy." She hesitated. "After the war though, he came back different."

"How so?"

"Reactive, I guess, is the best way to describe him. Not angry, but more…paranoid."

"PTSD isn't uncommon for soldiers. Did something happen in Afghanistan?"

The tiny woman seemed to shrink even further. "Not exactly." She slowly inhaled. "It wasn't his fault, he just blames himself."

Blake looked up at Hotch, understanding dawning in her eyes. "Kelly, did something happen to you while he was away?"

Tears started to fall from the young woman's face. "I….I was raped. Someone from work, we had drinks together and…somehow…"

Blake leaned back, and closed her eyes for a second. "You didn't report this?"

"God no. How could I?"

"I'm so sorry, Kelly."

"After…after that night, I quit my job. I didn't leave the house for a while. Kyle could tell something was up, we would call or Skype pretty often. I just kind of fell apart. When he found out what had happened…that's when he changed."

"Why did you two break up?"

"It was my decision. Like I said, he had changed…He's still a nice guy, but I couldn't live with his…over protectiveness. I'm past it now, but Kyle would just remind me of it every day."

Hotch stood, beckoning Blake outside. "Just a minute, Kelly. We'll be right back." The two walked outside, their voices low. Hotch checked around him before he began to speak. "Baker is taking revenge on men he sees as threats to women. In bars, in alleys…He's defending women because he sees them as defenseless, like his wife."

Blake nodded. "This all started three weeks ago…when they broke up. That must have been the trigger!"

"He saw the man who raped his wife as the cause of his failed relationship."

"He's going after the man who started it."

Blake quickly stepped back inside the room. "Kelly, I know this is hard for you, but we need the name of the man who raped you."

Kelly trembled, swiping away tears that had dried on her cheeks. "Scott Bennet."

Hotch flipped open his phone. "Garcia, we need Scott Bennet's home address." After a few seconds, he began striding back to the team. "Got it, thanks Garcia." The team looked up as Hotch stormed in. "Morgan, Blake, you're with me. We've got an address."

* * *

Half an hour later, the SUV screeched to a halt outside Bennet's suburban home, where a red truck was parked haphazardly in the driveway.

Morgan hopped out, saying, "Bennet doesn't own a red truck."

"But Baker does," responded Hotch. The trio pulled their guns from their holsters. "I'll go around back, you two take the front." Just then, they heard a crash inside the house. "GO!" Hotch yelled.

Morgan and Blake entered the front of the house, tentatively opening the door that already swung on two busted hinges. "FBI!" Morgan shouted, his authoritative voice echoing around the house. Noises of a struggle rushed through the thin walls of the house, and the agents looked upstairs.

Hotch joined them, murmuring, "The back of the house is clear." They stampeded up the staircase, covering all possible angles before rushing down the hallway to the last door. The unsub kneeling over a body on the floor, and the team could see a blood stain oozing out from beneath him and the hilt of a knife protruding from his chest. "Kyle Baker!" Hotch yelled. Surprised, the man scrambled wildly before coming up with a small revolver.

"Don't come any closer. I'll shoot!" He snarled, wildly swinging the weapon.

"Drop the weapon!" Hotch commanded. "Put it down, Baker. It's over."

In the space of a second, with a wild look in his eyes, the unsub squeezed the hair trigger and a shot rang out, followed quickly by bursts of gunfire from Hotch's and Morgan's guns. Baker fell back, a pool of his blood mixing with that of his victim.

"Blake? Blake!" Morgan shouted, running over to his kneeling teammate.

"I'm fine. It hit the vest. Morgan, I'm fine!" She protested, pushing away Morgan's arms. "Vest shot. See?" She prodded the navy blue vest, wincing as she pulled out a misshapen slug.

Hotch joined them. "You'll need to get checked out."

"How's Bennet?"

"We were too late." Hotch shrugged. "But he did rape a woman."

* * *

Back at the station, Detective Keynes strode in, waving a manila file. "ME report just came back on Peter Messer." Reid took it and immediately started reading.

"Something's wrong." He walked over the table and set down the file. "The first three reports indicate a left handed attacker, based on the angle of the wound. But the fourth victim's wound indicates a right handed attacker. Which means…"

JJ had stood up, examining the evidence board. "…There's another unsub."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Hotch and Morgan walked into the police station, removing their bulletproof vests and tossing them onto the table. JJ rose from her seat. "How's Blake?"

Hotch rubbed his forehead. "She'll be fine. It was just a vest shot; she's at the hospital getting checked out. So, we have more than one unsub?"

"That's what it seems like," JJ replied. "I'm still stuck on the beating. Messer was the only one that showed any signs of defensive wounds, and he's also the only one with a right-handed attacker."

Hart sat quietly, but looked up when Rossi called her name. "You said something back at Messer's house…How his reaction didn't show any emotion?"

She looked pleased to be called upon. "Like I told you, his face didn't display any of the feelings normally associated with the grieving process. It was almost like…he was expecting it." She looked shocked as a new thought entered her head. "Like he knew his brother was dead before we told him."

"JJ, take Rossi and go talk to Messer again." He had bent down to look at some files, but looked up at the last second. "Take Hart with you too."

Hart looked up from the book she was reading. "Sir?"

"I want you to look for both verbal and non-verbal cues that vary from the normal reactions of bereavement. My team knows basic markers of deception, but I want you to specifically note what is missing."

"Yes Sir." she tucked her book into her purse and eagerly followed JJ and Rossi out the door into the cool sunshine.

* * *

JJ whistled as the SUV traveled up the driveway to Messer's mansion. "This place is huge!"

"Wait until you've seen this inside," Cailyn smiled. "Even Rossi was impressed."

As they got out, JJ looked around the property. The hood of a red sports car peaked out from the garage, and a silver land rover sat next to it. "Will would have a field day in that garage."

They laughed and walked up to the imposing oak doors, which once again were opened with impeccable timing by Messer's butler. As he began to speak, Rossi cut him off. "Thanks. We know the drill." The tuxedoed man nodded once and turned smartly on his heel to leave the room.

"Talkative guy!" JJ commented. But the trio didn't have to wait long. Roger Messer walked down the elegant stairs, buttoning another sleek, high quality suit.

"You must have more questions for me." He seemed annoyed. "This isn't the most convenient time. I was just about to have a conference call with my emissaries in Ankara."

"We're sorry for the intrusion, Mr. Messer. My name is Agent Jareau, and I think you already know Ms. Hart and Agent Rossi."

"Yes, we met earlier. What can I do for you, Agent Jareau?"

"We've had some new developments in your brother's case. The injuries he sustained indicate that his attacker knew him personally. Can you think of anyone who your brother had problems with?"

"Your agents asked me that the last time we were here." He was growing even more annoyed. "I don't know anyone that would want to hurt Roger. Now please, I need to make that call."

Rossi stepped up, his tone matching the vehemence of Messer's. "Please, wait just a minute Mr. Messer. We're trying to find your brother's killer, and would appreciate your cooperation."

Messer paused, before rubbing his forehead tensely. "You're right. Let me make a call quickly and rearrange some things, then we can talk." He disappeared around a corner, pulling out his cell phone. The trio heard footsteps echoing down a hidden corridor.

Rossi saw Hart fidgeting nervously. "You saw something." It wasn't a question, but a statement.

She nodded. "Yes…Well, no. He's obviously angry, which could be from his brother's death, but also…there's something off. There was no change of emotion when he said his brother's name. Most people going through grief will reflexively avert their eyes, or frown, or cringe, but he had no reaction at all! I just don't know what to make of it."

"We call that using your gut, kid." Rossi smiled. "Not every case is in the textbook."

"There was something else…" She trailed off, skimming through her mental catalogue of emotion. "It's like he's hiding something. Subtle things…"

JJ finished for her. "He looked to the left instead of the right, his breathing changed…"

Rossi finished. "He's lying. I'll call Hotch and let him know."

As he walked outside, Messer walked back into the hall. "Alright, let's get this over with." Although he was still annoyed, he seemed to be more affable. Still, JJ eyed him suspiciously.

"Where were you on the night your brother died?"

The man's eyes thinned to slits. "You're accusing me of my own brother's murder? That's preposterous."

JJ held her hands up defensively. "We're just trying to eliminate all suspects, Mr. Messer." Cailyn hovered slightly behind JJ's shoulder, more than happy to let JJ manage the conversation.

"I was here. Alone. With my butler, I'm sure he can confirm my alibi."

"Well, we will check with him." JJ watched as the man's nerves seemed to fray before her eyes. His hand twitched subtly, and he loosened his tie. "Sir, is there something wrong?"

Suddenly, he fluidly drew a small revolver from the back of his pants, clocking JJ firmly on the head with it before turning to Cailyn. JJ's unconscious body fell to the ground, landing hard as Messer roughly turned Hart around, holding the cold barrel of the gun against the back of her head. Rossi, who had pulled his own guns upon hearing the screams, now paled in terror at the scene before him.

"Let her go, Messer. She can't do anything for you." His eyes burned.

Messer smiled a sick grin of enjoyment. "Oh, it's not what she can do for me…It's what she can do against me that matters." He began to move to the door, grasping Hart's upper arm. "Now. We're going to take a nice walk outside to my car, and you're not going to follow us. If you do…I'll know." Cailyn's eyes were wide and terrified as she scrambled to remain standing. Rossi stalked them outside as they walked across the ground to the land rover, an uneasy tango of superior positioning.

"Let her go. I will shoot."

"No you won't. You'll hit the girl." His smile grew even wider as he shielded himself with her body. "Your move, Agent Rossi." He paused for a moment before shoving Cailyn into the passenger seat, then forcing her to scoot over, keeping his gun trained on her the entire time.

"Now…Drive."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

The land rover pealed out of the driveway, and Rossi ran over to grab the phone he had dropped before kneeling down net to JJ. "Hotch! We need an ambulance. JJ's down, Cailyn's gone!"

"It's on its way. What's going on?"

Rossi turned on speaker phone, and felt around for JJ's pulse. "Messer was lying, he killed his brother. He clocked JJ with a revolver, but I've got a pulse. She's still unconscious. He took Hart in his land rover; I couldn't see what direction he went."

"Stay with JJ, we'll get a BOLO out. I'm sending Morgan to you to process the scene. As soon as you're done, get back here." His voice cut off, and Rossi could hear sirens in the distance.

"Come on, JJ, come back to me," he muttered. "The medics are almost here. Just a little while longer." Her eyes began to open, squinting against the harsh sun as she struggled to raise her head. "Stay down, kid. You're going to be okay."

"Rossi?"

"Yeah, I'm here Jayje. Just relax." an ambulance screamed into the grass next to them, followed closely by the team's SUV. Morgan stormed out, running to their sides.

"Hey JJ. It's going to be okay. These people are going to take care of you." The paramedics hauled their gear over to the prone agent, and Rossi and Morgan stepped back.

"Search the house?" Rossi asked.

"Sounds good. Didn't you say there as a butler? He's got to know something." They walked up to the door. "Didn't he open the gate?"

"No, it was open when we got here. You think he has a role in this somehow? Wow…" Morgan had just stepped into the lavish entryway.

"I know, right?" The two stood looking around for a moment before Morgan started up the stairs.

"Well, we've got to start somewhere."

* * *

Cailyn drove along the twisting country roads, nervous sweat dripping down her back as tears trailed down her cheeks. "Why are you going this? I have a mother, and a sister."

"And I have a brother." Messer smiled evilly. "Whoops…had. What's your point?" She shut her mouth in a tight line. "I bet you don't even know why I did it, do you?" Again, she didn't respond. "Do you realize how dangerous I am, Ms. Hart?"

"Please." The one shaky word was a plea for her life, but he ignored her.

"I killed my brother for his inheritance. But had I realized how fun it was…seeing his life leave his body….I would have done it much sooner. And you? You were just a little too close, a little too smart for your own good. They never would have found me if you hadn't been there. Quite convenient, I realize now. I need an escape and you were just a little too close." He trailed off, looking into the distance. "Pull over!" He suddenly commanded. Cailyn quickly pulled off onto the side of the road, watching him warily. He looked at the gun in his hand, turning it around so the sunlight glinted off the dull metal. Cailyn shivered and closed her eyes. He leveled the gun at her face, but instead brought the butt crashing into her skull. She fell over the steering wheel as he watched her for a second, stroking her cheek lightly. Pulling his finger back, he examined the moisture. "And you, my dear, will be so much fun."

* * *

Reid shot out of his seat as Morgan and Rossi stormed into the station. "How's JJ?"

"She's conscious, but they will probably keep her overnight for observation." Morgan said tiredly. "Any news on Cailyn?"

Hotch leaned on the table. "Messer disabled the GPS in his car, and there aren't any results on the BOLO yet."

"Do we know why he did it?"

Garcia's shrill voice filled the room. "I do. Roger Messer is in massive debt."

"How?" Rossi was shocked. "The guy lives in a mega mansion!"

"…which he inherited from his parents twelve years ago. He has spent his inheritance, and his company is going down the drain. Cutbacks, foreclosures, the works. He has been involved in multiple lawsuits regarding environmental and labor safety violations."

"So why did he kill Peter? Inheritance money?"

"Exactly, bossman. Roger Messer stood to gain billions of dollars from his brother's death. He's listed as the only beneficiary."

Blake had walked back into the room. "And Cailyn? What role did she play?"

"Wait…" Morgan started pacing the room. "The beatings. We said they were personal, but there doesn't appear to be any signs of animosity between the two."

Reid leapt to his feet, running to the board and examining it closely. The rest of the group watched curiously. "Reid? Is there something you want to share?"

Reid shushed him, holding up a hand for silence. "Cailyn said that he didn't show any emotion. He was always put together, even intimidatingly so. We know he killed his own brother for money. There was excessive beating for no apparent reason. Guys…I think our unsub's a psychopath."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Roger Messer paced in front of Cailyn's semi-naked, unconscious body that lay on the floor, waiting impatiently for her to awaken. The place where he had struck her on the forehead had broken the skin, but the blood had clotted fairly quickly. He felt a rush of pleasure as he bound her wrists, but decided to let her ankles go free. There had to be some fun in it. He examined the blood stain on her shoulder and neck with fascination, playing with the knife he had pulled from his trunk. Finally, she began to wake up. He heard a low groan, and walked over as she rolled over onto her back.

"Good morning, my sleeping beauty. Oh, what things I have planned for us…believe me, I'll enjoy myself. I might not say the same for you, though." She looked around, seeing the concrete walls that surrounded her and feeling the chill against her bar skin. He turned around suddenly, and for the first time Cailyn noticed the knife in his hand and shivered in a way that had nothing to do with the cold. "Don't be nervous, sweetheart. I promise, you won't be able to feel it soon enough."

"Please." She pleaded, fighting the bonds as she felt hot tears stream down her face again. "PLEASE! What did I ever do to you?" She was screaming now. "LET ME GO!"

He was by her side in a second, his hand silencing her desperation. "Well, we can't have that now, can we?" He grabbed a rag that was nearby, and shoved it tight into her mouth. She gagged from the rancid smell and the feeling of the cloth against the back of her throat.

She could feel her heart accelerating, and she started panicking and thrashing wildly. He pulled her into a sitting position, forcefully shoving her upright against the wall. "You should relax. From what I've heard, it hurts less if you're not so tense." His tone was even, and he began to stroke the inside of her thigh as she twisted and kicked. "So soft and white…so…perfect. Well, not for long." With powerful hands, he held her ankle down and brought the knife above her thigh, as if aiming for the perfect target. As Cailyn watched him, her eyes horrified, he sliced the knife into her pale leg before letting go and sitting back on his knees to admire his work. Cailyn's face warped in agony, her eyes screaming for redemption from the pain as blood flowed freely from the gaping wound.

"Now, I think we'll just leave it there for a while, what do you think?"

* * *

Reid stood in the washroom, throwing water on his flushed face. It had already been four hours and he knew that Cailyn's odds of survival dropped with every passing second. Slight nausea grew in his stomach, and he leaned over the sink, grasping both sides for stability as he gagged. Nothing came out, however, and Reid rubbed the sweat from his forehead, desperately attempting to find her in his head.

Morgan knocked hard on the door. "Hey pretty boy, you okay in there?"

"I'm fine Morgan, I'll be out in a minute!" Reid called. He dried his hands and face and walked out, stopping by the coffee machine on his way back to the team, but Morgan stopped him in the hallway.

"Reid, you okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"You guys were close friends. Are you sure you can still be alright through this?" Upon seeing Reid's stony expression, he continued. "Fine. We finished checking all of Roger Messer's properties, uniforms couldn't find Hart at any of them. Garcia's still on the BOLO and checking traffic cams-"

Morgan didn't get a chance to finish, Reid cut in, "You checked all of Roger's properties? Did we check Peter's?"

After a frozen moment, they both lunged into the room. "Garcia!" Reid commanded. "Check all the properties under Peter Messer's name."

"Oh. That makes sense. Uh…I've got two. A house, and a storage unit, but it looks like he hasn't accessed it in years."

"That's got to be it," Hotch said. "Let's go." In a frenzy, Hotch, Rossi, Reid and Morgan grabbed their vests and ran out to the SUVs, each one of them praying that they would find Cailyn in one piece.

* * *

Cailyn's vision was going blurry. Her balance and energy were compromised by the loss of blood, and she slid down the wall until she was lying on her side. Silent tears leaked from her eyes as the movement jostled the blade once again, and more blood trickled out. Impatiently, Messer sat her back up, yanking the blade forcefully from her leg. "I think it's time for more, don't you? But…let's take this a step further….I want to hear you beg.

"They will find you." Cailyn hiccupped painfully. "They're coming, right now probably."

Messer knelt down across from her, staring at her naked body. She shuddered, and he laughed menacingly. "Are you uncomfortable, Cailyn?" He dragged the blunt edge of the knife across her stomach, bringing it up so that the point was just at her chest. "Because I'm sure I could make this easier for the both of us." Suddenly, they heard sirens I the distance. "I'll make it quick, then." He hefted her weight so she was standing, leaning against his muscular frame. She could feel him pressing insistently against her groin, but her nausea was overridden by the screaming of her leg and her throbbing head.

"Stop." She gasped. "Put me down."

"No. Your friends will be here in a minute. In fact, I think they're coming now."

"They'll kill you." Her voice was resolute, but quiet. She could barely stay on her feet, and was supported by Messer's arm around her stomach.

"Oh, I know. The question is, will I kill you first?" He nestled his nose into the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply. The blunt edge of the knife trailed along her throat, leaving a bright red stain. "Because I might as well go out with a bang."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Outside the storage unit, two black SUVs screeched to a halt as the agents unloaded. "Roger Messer!" Morgan shouted. "This is the FBI! We're coming in!" Hotch rolled the door open, and the agents gasped at the sight before him.

Reid put his wrist to his mouth. "Garcia! We need an ambulance!" Messer was grinning maniacally as he held the knife against Cailyn's throat. Rossi could see beads of blood begin to rise under the blade. There was blood pooled on the floor, and all four of them could see it leaking down her leg and the side of her head.

"Put the knife down, Messer. It's over."

"It's not over until I say it is, agents. " He said smugly. Suddenly, Cailyn started falling, no longer able to support her own weight. The blade pushed even further into her throat as Messer struggled to keep her upright.

"Put the knife down, or we will shoot!" Morgan stalked closer, aiming directly at Messer's head. Finally, Cailyn dropped to the floor as Messer let go. Before the knife could get to his own throat, six or seven shots rang out and he fell heavily on top of her unconscious body.

They ran in, shoving him off of Cailyn's still form that still bled out, creating yet another stain on the concrete floor. As Hotch checked for Messer's pulse, the other worked over Cailyn's silent body, covering the holes that Messer had formed. "She's bleeding out!" Reid said frantically. "Where are the medics?"

Rossi comforted the young agent. "They're coming, just hang in there kid."

An ambulance screamed into the lot outside the unit and paramedics jumped out, equipment in hand. "She's lost a lot of blood!" Reid shouted. "She needs to get to a hospital."

Morgan stepped in and picked Reid up by the arms, pulling him out of the way. "Come on kid, let them help."

"I want to ride with her. We need to go!"

"Reid. REID! Just hang tight, kid. Rossi's going to go with her, we'll meet the ambulance there." His soft eyes could not take away Reid's determination, but he sat still and silent in the SUV as Morgan rushed after the ambulance to the hospital. "Talk to me, Reid. What's going on."

"She wouldn't be here if I didn't invite her to come with us."

"Reid, stop. You couldn't have prevented this."

"And JJ, and Blake? God, this case has been a nightmare." Reid rubbed a hand across his forehead, his tell when he was preoccupied.

"JJ and Blake were doing their job, and they will both be okay. Cailyn is with the best people for her right now. All we can do is wait."

* * *

Night had fallen, but what was left of the BAU team remained resolutely in the waiting room. It had been three hours since they had arrived at the hospital, and everyone was growing more restless and more worried. Reid stood dejectedly in front of the darkened window as Rossi paced behind him. Blake and Morgan sat hard plastic chairs, watching the world go by and listening disinterestedly to Hotch's cell phone conversation.

A voice timidly interrupted their reverie. "Hey guys."

"JJ!" Morgan exclaimed. "What are you doing out of bed?!"

"I'm fine guys. The nurse said I could come down for a while to wait with you." Rossi looked at Hotch with raised eyebrows, subtly examining vibrant bruise against her pallid face and limp blond hair. She swayed a bit, and Blake quickly stood up next to her.

"Are you sure, JJ?"

"I just want to sit with you guys. I swear, I'll tell you if something's wrong." Uneasily, Morgan sat back down, patting the seat next to him.

"Then have a seat, I guess." Instead, JJ walked over to Reid at the window, who hadn't flinched.

"She's going to be okay, Reid."

"You can't know that for sure."

"The paramedics said her chance were good when they brought her in."

"But there is still a chance, isn't there?"

JJ sat down next to Morgan, already exhausted. "There's no reasoning with him."

He chuckled humorlessly. "No reasoning with the king of reason? Shocker." JJ closed her eyes and winced as she laid her head on Morgan's wide shoulder. "Jayje, are you sure you're okay?" She mumbled something. "What was that?"

"Has anyone called Will? I was supposed to talk to Henry tonight." Morgan and Hotch exchanged a glance, realizing that neither of them had thought to call Will.

"Morgan, take her back to her room. I'll call Will and explain everything." In a lower voice, he added, "Will you stay with her? I'll call you when we hear anything."

"Will do," he said, settling a sleepy JJ into a nearby wheelchair. "And Hotch?"

"Yes?"

"Keep an eye on Reid for me?"

He nodded once, glancing over to the young agent and seeing the circles under his hopeless brown eyes. "Sure thing."

As Morgan wheeled JJ away, she leaned her head back, squeezing her eyes shut when faced with the glare of fluorescent lights overhead. "Derek?"

"Yeah Jayje."

"Is she going to be okay?"

"The doctors said that her chances are pretty good."

"Is he?"

Morgan through back to Reid, listlessly staring out the window at the world below. He thought of Rossi, pacing angrily about the room, never stilling. He thought of Hotch, pulled away from the team by his cell phone into more violence, and more pain. Honestly, he could not figure out which one she was referring to. "I don't know. I just don't know."

* * *

Morgan sat in the dark room, watching JJ sleep on the bed. A black eye blossomed against her pale skin, but she slept peacefully. The moon was half way across the sky, stars dotting the inky black night. Suddenly, his cell phone rang, the ringtone invasively loud against the still room. Immediately, he picked it up, silencing it. "Hotch, hang on a minute." He whispered.

JJ woke up groggily. "Morgan? Is that Hotch?"

"I'll be back in a minute Jayje. Hang tight." He walked outside the room, leaning against the sterile white wall. "What did you hear?"

"She's going to be okay." Morgan sighed in relief. "She's weak from loss of blood, has a moderate concussion, and is going to be in PT for a while, but she's going to be okay."

"Thank God."

"Rossi's staying here for the night, I'm going back to the hotel and we're trying to convince Reid to come back with me, he hasn't slept in a while."

"I'll stay here with JJ, I think she's still hurting, although she's not showing anything."

"Alright. Get some sleep, and stay with her. She gets out tomorrow, right?"

"That's what they're saying. I'm still a little skeptical, she took a hard hit."

"Let me know tomorrow, and tell her what's going on."

"Will do. Good night." Morgan hung up, resting his head against the wall for a second before heading in to tell JJ.

She had sat up against the headboard, her pale skin almost blending into the walls behind her. If Morgan didn't know her better, she would have looked weak. "What's the news?" She asked in a quiet voice.

"She's going to be okay." JJ's face showed visible relief. "She'll have to stay in the hospital for a while longer."

"Thank you." She closed her eyes.

"Come on JJ, not you too…"

"What do you mean?" She asked, genuinely surprised.

"You feel guilty for the kidnapping."

"What, and you don't?"

"She chose to come with us. I feel bad that it happened, and sure I feel some guilt for not identifying the bastard sooner…But I'm not torturing myself in return."

"I'm not torturing myself, Morgan." She slid back until she was lying down again, and turned over on the pillow.

"JJ. It's not your fault. You were out before you even knew what was happening."

"Gee, thanks Morgan. I feel so much better." She mumbled, obviously tired.

"JJ, you can't blame yourself. Seriously, she's going to be okay." He waited for a response, and receiving none, leaned back in the hard plastic chair to try to sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Reid sat next to Cailyn's bed, watching her partially comatose sleep. Her forehead was concealed beneath a sterile white bandage, but hints of vivid plum and black bruising seeped through around the edges. The side of her throat as well was swathed in bandages, hiding the line that would probably scar her forever. Reid was grateful that her leg was covered; it was easier to ignore her injuries and just see her as Cailyn if he couldn't see the full extent.

He rubbed his brow, close to giving in to his exhaustion. He put his head in his hands, running his fingers through his hair. There was a light knock on the doorjamb, and he could see Hotch through the window, beckoning him outside. Reid stood and stretched out his back, giving Cailyn one last look before heading outside. "How's JJ?" He asked immediately.

"Morgan said she was doing well, but should probably be in here for another day. How's Cailyn?"

Reid frowned. "She's stable for now. The doctor said that she will probably wake up sometime tomorrow, they're keeping her sedated right now."

"Then come back to the hotel with Blake and me. You need sleep."

"I'm fine, Hotch."

"Reid, you haven't slept in almost two days."

"So I'll sleep here!" He rubbed his eyes. "I need to be with her, Hotch."

Hotch paused for a minute, analyzing the younger agent, but finally gave in. "Alright. Morgan's upstairs with JJ, and Rossi is going to stay too. Call if you need anything. And get some sleep."

"Thank you."

"I'll see you in the morning."

Reid nodded once, then turned and walked back into the dark room. He gently pushed the chair back into the corner, sat down, and promptly fell into a heavy, dreamless sleep.

* * *

The next morning, Rossi quietly opened the door to the room, cup of coffee in hand. Nothing had changed since the night before when he had left, except for the new light streaming through cracks in the curtains. A small beam illuminated one of Reid's eyes, and Rossi walked over to close the curtains fully, but Spencer woke up to the soft footsteps. "Rossi?" He muttered sleepily. "what are you doing here?"

"I never left kid."

"Oh. Right." Rossi could tell that the sleep had helped a little, but not much.

"Sorry kid, go back to sleep. I just came to check on you."

"What time is it?

"A little after nine. Hotch called, he said that the he and Blake were going to be back here in half an hour or so."

"Then I should get up." He stood, ruffling his hair with one hand and re-tucking his shirt in with the other. He stretched, almost knocking Rossi's coffee cup out of his hand. "Sorry."

"It's alright." Rossi said. For the first time, Reid noticed the circles under Rossi's eyes as well.

"Did you sleep at all last night?"

"I tried…" He shrugged it off. "Plastic hospital chairs aren't my favorite place to crash."

Reid could tell he was lying, but didn't push it. "I'm going to go grab a glass of coffee. Will you stay with her?"

Rossi nodded, opening the curtains to let the sunlight in before taking Reid's place next to the bed. "Sure. Go." He put his feet up on the window sill and looked outside, watching the dawning if a new day. As Reid looked over his shoulder on the way out the door, he saw Rossi gently put his aged hands over Cailyn's, and smiled.

Fifteen minutes later, Hotch walked up to the room and poked his head in. "Where's Reid?"

Rossi looked puzzled. "He went to get coffee…fifteen minutes ago. I'm not sure where he is now."

"Okay. Let me know if you find him." As Hotch turned to leave, he noticed something in the older Agent's expression that made him stop short. "Rossi?" He asked gently.

"Yes?" Hotch could see it more clearly now—a pronounced look in his eyes, of guilt…or maybe sadness. HE paused, not sure what to say, and as Rossi understood what was going on, he pounced on Hotch's hesitation. I'm fine, Hotch. Just tired."

The team leader nodded once, still wary. "Let me know when she wakes up. I'm going to see JJ."

As closed, Cailyn began to stir. A whine emitted from her throat, and Rossi saw her face contort in pain and confusion. "Cailyn? Can you hear me?"

Hotch opened the door to tell Rossi something else, but saw Cailyn. "I'll get a doctor." He strode purposefully into the hallway grabbing a nurse.

Rossi looked back to Cailyn, who was trying to speak. "Spencer?" The old agent grinned inwardly at her request.

"No, it's me, Dave." She peeled her eyelids open slowly, reacting to the harsh fluorescent lights.

"Dave?"

"That's right kid, it's me. Don't panic!" Her eyes had gone wide, taking in her surroundings. "You're in a hospital."

"Leg…hurts."

"We're getting a doctor in here right now, just hang on." He looked up as Reid ran in, followed quickly by Cailyn's doctor. "Well, two doctors," Rossi muttered to himself. He chuckled. Reid fell to the side of Cailyn's bed, holding her small hand in his own.

"Cailyn! I'm here, right here." The worry in his voice was evident. "You're going to be okay."

Rossi walked out of the room, knowing that she was well taken care of, and walked over where Hotch and Blake were sitting. She looked up from some papers she was grading, a bright smile on her face. "Morning Rossi!" He nodded in acknowledgement before sinking down into a chair, hanging his head in his hands. Blake started to say something more, but Hotch silenced her with a small shake of his head. After sitting for a couple of seconds, he jumped to his feet again.

"I have to go see JJ."

"Rossi, relax!" Hotch stood, not understanding his old friend's odd behavior.

"I want to see her."

"JJ's fine. Morgan just called. The doctors are releasing her as we speak, she'll be down here soon enough." Rossi stood still, his eyes lost. Hotch watched, growing frustrated "What's wrong with you?!"

Rossi's head snapped up, and he readied himself to say something before stalking off. He pushed open the door to the stairs and disappeared around the corner. Morgan and JJ walked in from the other direction, just catching a glimpse of Rossi as he stalked away. "Is he okay?" JJ asked, confused.

"We'll see," Hotch responded. "How are you doing?"

"I'm okay. The head still hurts a little. I need to fill a prescription, and I was going to run back to the hotel and change." She was still wearing her clothes from yesterday, sans her bloodstained jacket that had been entered into evidence.

"Not a problem. Can you drive?"

"Not officially." Morgan cut in. "I was actually going to see if Rossi or Blake could take her."

Blake swept her papers into a stack and shoved them into her briefcase. "I can take you JJ. Ready to go?"

"Can I check in on Cailyn first?"

Hotch looked over his shoulder through the door that stood ajar. "Reid and the doctor are in there now."

JJ smiled mischievously. "Right. I'll come back later, then." The two women walked out, talking and laughing about the two young people. Morgan and Hotch sat down in the stairs waiting for Reid to come out, and for Rossi to come back.


	10. Chapter 10

**Sorry for the delay, it's finals season here at college.**

**Chapter 10**

Rossi shivered slightly on a dewy bench, and pulled his wrinkled suit jacket closer around his shoulders. He gazed over the manicured grounds outside the hospital, lackadaisically looking for someone that looked less tired than himself. The early morning serenity was occasionally punctured by a wailing siren, and Rossi was only reminded of the unceasing tragedy that was present in the world. Suddenly, the sound of footsteps broke into his sleepy fog.

"What do you want?" He said, turning around. Expecting Hotch or Reid, he was surprised to find Morgan holding up his hands defensively.

"Relax, Rossi. I just came to see if you wanted company."

"I don't," Rossi said, turning back around and folding his arms.

"Talk to me, Rossi. This case has everyone upset." Morgan's dark eyes softened. "You feel guilty. I get it. You brought her in to join us; you were with her when she was taken. You can question everything you did, and every second, but you can't change anything that you've done."

"That's not it, Morgan." His voice wavered, and this scared Morgan. He had never seen Rossi so shaken up. "I teach," he said simply. "I mentored her, taught her everything I know about victims, and now she's one too. I couldn't teach her enough."

"It wasn't your job to teach her about this. She's not a profiler, Rossi. She noticed the signs, it was just too late." He sat down on the edge of the bench, sitting on the edge so he could watch the older man.

"I can't teach them everything." He looked defeated. "I don't know everything. Everyday, someone comes up with a new evil for us to counter. And sometimes, we can't until it's too late. It was too late for her, Derek. We saved her, but she's broken. And the other men, what can we do for them? What justice is it that their killer is dead?"

Morgan leaned back into the damp bench, now following Rossi's gaze across the empty horizon. "We do everything we can, and when that isn't enough, we try to do more. We change just like they do Rossi. We get smarter, we add more to ourselves. We try to prevent people from getting hurt, but we also know how to heal. Cailyn's not going to be broken for long. She's going to get over it, and move on."

Rossi frowned, a mixture of guilt and helplessness still searing through his veins. He stared brazenly into Morgan's eyes. "But move on to where?"

* * *

Reid tucked a damp strand of hair behind Cailyn's delicate ear. The doctors had cautiously declared Cailyn out of the woods, and had given the two some time alone. He still held her hand, and glanced at it awkwardly. "Is…is this alright?" She nodded and smiled.

"Will you stay with me?"

"O-of course," Reid stammered. "How are you feeling?"

"Can't complain!" She laughed. "Other than…well, you know."

"Are you okay?"

"Spencer, you just as asked me that….Oh. you mean…emotionally. I…" Her eyes were suddenly frantic, searching for something in her mind. "I don't know if I can answer that." She unconsciously touched the bandage at her neck, gently caressing the rough cotton. "I will be I'm sure. Right now…I's not sure."

"Do you want to talk about it? Or I could get JJ, or Blake, or Rossi."

"No time like the present." She said weakly, not able to hide her fear.

"Cailyn?" She forced himself to look into his eyes, and was pulled in by their gentle safety. "We got him. Peter's dead." She shivered at the name, and at the memories of the dark room. "Cailyn, you're safe now."

"Alright. So I just…talk?" He nodded, scooting his chair closer. He still held her hand, and she took comfort in the unyielding warmth and security. "I was so confused at first. I couldn't figure out why he had taken me, or where I was, or what was happening. We were driving…he kept talking…he was taunting me, talking to me like I was stupid. Spencer, I was so scared."

He sat down on the edge of her bed, careful to avoid her leg. "You're doing amazing Cailyn. I know it's hard." His voice was almost a whisper, but the urgency that coursed through it spurred her to continue.

"He told me that he killed his brother, for money. I thought he was rich…"

"He was, at one point, but his company was tanking."

"Oh." They sat in silence, but Reid didn't push her to continue. She closed her eyes and Reid stood up, sure that she had fallen asleep again.

"When he knocked me out with his gun, I woke up in the room. It was freezing, and he was just pacing. The knife…he had it with him the whole time. He laughed, like he was enjoying it."

"He was a psychopath, Cailyn. I don't think I need to tell you what that means."

"He enjoyed it." She said flatly. "I could tell. When…when he stabbed me, he just left the knife there, and watched me." Both of their eyes shot to her leg, still hidden underneath the blankets. "When he pulled it out…it was worse than when it went it. It was like…and electric charge through my leg." Her voice shook, and Reid sympathized with her—he remembered the last time he was tortured. He knew what it was like, watching someone as they watched you die. She took a deep, shuddering breath. "I fell onto my side, and he pulled me up…He was going to do it again…that's when we heard the sirens. When he pulled me up, he…"Her voice was disgusted. "He was turned on." She closed her eyes, turning her face slightly away in shame.

Reid didn't say anything, just sat and stroked her hand. Eventually, her eyelids closed, and her breathing evened. Reid slowly lowered himself next to her still, battered form on the bed. When Hotch poked his head in an hour later, the two were fast asleep on the bed, still holding hands.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Reid awoke suddenly in the night to soft whimpers emitting from the girl next to him. She writhed in her sleep, her eyes shut tight against unknown terrors. Reid slid off the bed, kneeling and stroking her cheek. "Cailyn." He whispered. "Cailyn! Wake up. Cailyn?" Her eyes flew open, and Reid snatched his hand back. "It's okay. It was just a nightmare. You're safe!" Tears dripped from her eyes, and she was sweating.

"Spencer?" He leaned in and hugged her close, cradling her still-trembling body in his arms.

"Shhh. It's going to be okay. I'm right here." They sat in silence for a few moments before Reid hesitantly asked, "Do you want to tell me what your dream was about?"

She relaxed into the pillow and closed her eyes. "It was when you guys showed up. But this time...I died instead of him. You guys shot me, and I was just lying there."

"Feelings of abandonment and betrayal." Reid muttered.

"What?"

"You're reflecting your feelings of betrayal from your kidnapping. You thought we had left you to die. Even subconsciously, those feelings could manifest in dreams, when your mind is finally rested enough to realize them."

"My brain sucks."

"Just give it time. Try to go back to sleep. Believe me, I will stay right here. I won't let you go again." He said the last part in the tenderest voice Cailyn had ever heard him use.

"You promise?" She asked, hope finally evident in her voice.

In response, Reid pulled the chair up to her bed, took her hand in his, and laid his head on the pillow. "Until you tell me to leave."

* * *

Hotch, Rossi, JJ, and Morgan climbed onto the jet, settling into their respective places. "Where's Blake?" JJ asked, pulling out her iPod.

"Right here!" Blake said breathlessly. "I just got caught up with a phone call." She dropped her bag heavily on the floor and sank into the couch next to JJ, who was a little irate that her footrest had become Blake's seat. Sighing, she leaned into the leather cushions and put her headphones in, immediately closing her eyes. Morgan rolled his eyes and chuckled at the blonde's disappointment, stretching out on the couch of his own. Turning to Hotch, he said, "So Reid is going to stay with Cailyn?"

"Yes, he'll drive her home when she's released, because she won't be able to fly for a while because of her head."

"JJ's flying."

"JJ's stubborn." The two men chuckled, but glanced at her bruised forehead and fell silent. "This was a rough case." Hotch continued. Morgan stood up and walked to the back of the plane, indicating for the senior agent to join him.

Steaming cup of coffee in hand, Morgan leaned against the small galley counter. "I talked to Rossi."

"Ah." Hotch said, understanding Morgan's caution. "And what did he say?"

"He feels guilty for not teaching Cailyn enough, for not preparing her for the field. I told him what I could, but I don't think he quite believes it."

"Well, it makes sense. Rossi's always been a teacher…he feels responsible for what he can't do. He's going to second-guess himself, and everything he did, or didn't do. Give him some time."

"I've never seen it this bad." Suddenly, Rossi was next to them, holding out his own mug for a refill.

"Seen what this bad?" He asked.

Morgan smoothly transitioned into another lie. "Reid. He's really attached to her."

Rossi snorted. "I'm taking credit for that," he said. "I introduced them." He walked back to his seat, and Hotch frowned, disturbed at both Rossi's airy response and Morgan's instinctual lying.

"He seems better now."

"I'll talk to him later. For now, I think it's time we get some rest. Honestly, when is the last time you slept in a real bed?"

"You see a real bed on this plane? I'm holding out until I can get home."

"Fair point. I'll talk to you later Morgan."

* * *

The next morning dawned fairly early, for the team members waking up in their own homes and for Reid and Cailyn, waking up after another night in the hospital. Cailyn woke before Reid this time, and watched him sleep in a cot that the doctor had brought in. His shaggy hair fell over one of his eyes, but she could see the other twitching with some unknown dream. Cailyn looked at the blanket, barely covering his legs, and thought about her own legs under the blanket. One of them was still whole, and the other was going to be scarred for the rest of her life. Tears pricked at the corner of her eyes as she thought about the events of the past two days. How her life had changed so suddenly, she had no idea. One day, she had been a graduate student, one of the top in her class, and the next…she was here, in the hospital. With Reid. Sweet, gentle Reid, who had held her through her nightmares and had promised not to abandon her. When they had begun the case, she had thought that they were just friends. But now, being the object of his incessant care and compassion, she started to think it was something more.


End file.
